


Cream and Emptiness

by Aenphobia



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Baking, Innuendo, M/M, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29033451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenphobia/pseuds/Aenphobia
Summary: “Fuck, they’re so flaccid.” He pouts.“I think they’ll get nice and round when they’re filled up.” Chris’s tone is warm and reassuring and he pokes at the pastry with concern.No matter. Felix clears his throat. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sure they’d perk right up after getting creamed in.”Or, Felix bakes up a little scheme.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix
Comments: 35
Kudos: 225
Collections: Div's Favorites





	Cream and Emptiness

A fact of life— Felix wants Chris. Felix wants Chris as much as he’s ever wanted anything in his life. Being an idol, too, was highlighted in a shade of _want Chris._ He says it frequently, makes sure Chris knows how much he’s wanted, how much _Felix_ wants him. Two parts because Chris needs to hear it, three parts because Felix needs to say it.

With the wanting comes the knowing, and he knows Chris as much as he wants him. He knows how stressed Chris is by the slope of his shoulders, knows how wide Chris’s smile is just by the depths of his dimples.

And he knows Chris wants him the same way. He also knows, infuriatingly, that Chris feels like he’s in a position of power and responsibility over Felix, over _all_ of them, and will never jeopardize their livelihoods or comfort for the happiness he could have with Felix.

Well fuck _that._

Felix isn’t asking to elope or go on fancy public dates, he doesn't even need to put a label on it. He just wants to maybe hold Chris’s hand in the dorms, maybe fall asleep spooning and not have to pretend like neither of them woke up with a boner, and _maybe_ he just wants some goddamn kisses from the boy he loves.

It’s been three years of wanting, of testing the waters. Felix has found them warm and refreshing and lovely. Now he just has to pull Chris in.

The ingredients of his latest scheme are laid out in front of him.

He cracks the eggs and measures out the flour, dons the frilly apron Changbin got him as a joke, which was really a present for Chris. As a final touch, he brushes some powdered sugar on his nose and the corner of his mouth and he skips out into the living room where Chris is hunched over his laptop.

“ _Channie-hyung_.” Felix says high pitched and sing-song, the words so familiar in his mouth it slurs into a single mischievous syllable.

“Felix.” Chris sighs and looks up. His eyes linger on the spots of powdered sugar. Felix only notices because Felix has spent years looking for those signs.

It makes him feel warm inside when Chris is already closing the lid of his laptop with resignation. They’ve done this countless times, and Felix always wins. Because always Chris lets him win. “Whaddya want.”

“Come help me mix.”

“Didn’t I buy you a stand mixer, like, last month?” Chris follows him into the kitchen anyways.

“Yeah but I don’t wanna over mix the batter, I’m making choux pastry for the first time, I need the emotional support.”

“You just want my arms.” Chris pouts and hugs himself, shy in a very _Chris_ way that only serves to highlight his arms in his stupid sleeveless top.

Felix feigns contemplation, “Maybe I should ask Binnie then. His arms are bigger.” He doesn’t miss the twitch of Chris’s jaw or the way he grabs at a whisk like he’s calling dibs on Felix’s time. It’s rather silly, Felix thinks, to try and claim something he already owns.

“You wouldn’t, he’d look at the eggs and they’d all spontaneously break.”

He snorts, “Yeah, I wanted _you_.” For the scheme, for everything. He’d actually convinced the others to make themselves scarce in exchange for baked goods. He never said they’d be _good_ , and if all goes according to plan, they might not even be finished.

Chris’s hand not gripping the whisk goes to fiddle with his earring, as if that would distract Felix _from_ rather than draw attention _to_ his reddening ears. He clears his throat and looks at the recipe open on Felix’s phone. “So uh, eclairs? Don’t tell me you’ll make me whip up cream from scratch too.”

“Nah, that’s for cannolis, I like custard filling for eclairs more.” Felix bites down on a smile, Chris had set him up better than he could have hoped, “Whipped cream is nice and fluffy but nothing beats a nice _gooey_ custard filling, something that _gushes_ into all the holes in the dough.”

Chris’s hands still. Felix watches as he rationalizes what he just heard, overthinks until his mind is blanked out with denial. His throat bobs as he swallows, “Yeah. Eggs are good.”

Felix lets Chris off the hook for the sake of the dough. It really is his first time making choux pastry, and if he fucks this part up then he won’t get to the most important part of the scheme. Even so, he can’t resist piping the last bit of the dough into the shape of a crude dick, or, as he tells Chris, an extra girthy eclair and two cream puffs.

Soon enough, they’re in the oven and Felix gets started on the filling and chocolate glaze while Chris starts on the dishes that have accumulated.

Chris puts on some early 2010’s pop music, the kind that Felix used to associate with middle school gyms but now associates with Chris’s giggles in between belting out choruses with lyrics no middle school should’ve sung.

Time passes all too fast when they’re alone like this, and soon enough the filling and glaze are done and the pastries are cooled.

Some of the eclairs had deflated while cooling. They look… sad. Felix tries not to read it as a cosmic sign, and fails.

“Fuck, they’re so flaccid.” He pouts. 

“I think they’ll get nice and round when they’re filled up.” Chris’s tone is warm and reassuring and he pokes at the pastry with concern.

No matter. Felix clears his throat. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sure they’d perk right up after getting creamed in.” He catches the briefest tense of Chris’s neck before he nonchalantly busies himself with filling the piping bag.

“Here,” He hands Chris the bag. “You fill, I’ll do the chocolate glaze.”

“Me?” Chris’s eyebrows shoot up, “Uh... How?”

“Dunno, I’ve never done it before.” Felix has also never had it done to him. He picks up a pastry and makes an indent in the soft dough, “The filling’s wet, but it’s pretty sticky. I think it’d be best to just stick it in from both ends and fill.” 

Felix watches Chris’s ears redden with every word. It’s a bit too early to pull the trigger, he reminds himself to tone it down.

“Sounds great!” Chris’s voice is strained and Felix watches him insert the piping tip into the end of the eclair, right into the indent Felix just made. There’s some resistance, but the pastry gives way and then it’s getting filled. Chris squeezes slowly and carefully, as if he’s worried about inconveniencing the pastry currently living out Felix’s dream. He repeats on the other side and passes it to Felix when he’s done.

Felix pretends to judge it like this isn’t also his first eclair. “I think he could do with a bit more filling.”

“It’s a he now?” Chris chuckles and takes it back.

Felix says, as neutral as he can. “Yeah, and he _really_ wants you to fill him up.”

Chris makes a strangled sound and Felix doesn’t even try to stifle his giggle.

They work in tempo with the music. Multi-talented and a fast learner, Chris hands him perfectly filled eclairs. Felix dips each carefully into the chocolate ganache, making sure to get just a little bit on his fingers. When he knows Chris is watching, he licks the chocolate off. When Chris isn’t watching, Felix gets to watch him back.

When a song trails off and there are more filled eclairs than empty ones, Felix pulls the trigger.

“I watched this documentary with Sungie about embryogenesis across different species, and apparently every animal just starts out as a mouth to butt tube.” A little out of the blue, but not unusual conversation for them. “Including humans.”

“Uh huh.” Chris barely raises an eyebrow at him, hands him an eclair.

“Y’know.” Felix says, covering it with chocolate. He feigns concentration and chooses his next words _very_ carefully. “People are basically like eclairs made outta meat.” Eh, good enough.

“Hm,” Chris hums and there is no doubt in Felix’s mind that he is actually considering this. That he thinks the bullshit Felix says is worth contemplation. “Actually I think it’s more like worms made out of dough. Or humans are worms with limbs. Worms are the intermediate.”

Felix wrinkles his nose, “Ew. Chris, that sounds gross. Meat eclairs sound way better.”

Chris snorts, “If you say so.”

“I do. And I say that humans are meat eclairs. And I think,” Felix inhales deep, exhales. Looks Chris in the eyes. “I think we all want to get filled with cream.”

There is a sharp inhale, then the wet squelching of the piping bag being squeezed too hard and too fast. Felix blinks, languid. He darts out his tongue to catch the bit of powdered sugar he left on his mouth and smiles when he notices Chris's lips part.

“Aw, Chris, you made a mess.” The eclair too, smushed as a casualty of Chris’s shock. It’s dripping custard from both ends, leaking where it’s connected to the tip. “Maybe not _that_ roughly, but could be nice sometimes though.”

Felix wipes up some of the excess cream with a finger and brings it to his mouth.

“Yeah.” Chris’ eyes are saucers, confused and _heated,_ trained right at Felix’s tongue where he’s lapping at the custard. His eyes dart up meet Felix's.

The moment lasts an eternity. It feels like time stops, gets sucked in with Felix into Chris’s hungry, half lidded eyes. Felix reads all the signs he knows and understands, tries desperately to memorize what he doesn’t.

The moment is over in an instant. Felix watches, too slow and too powerless to stop it when Chris shakes himself out of his reverie and it’s all over. And he’s back to looking at Felix like his teammate, his Australian little brother.

“Yeah, custard tastes pretty good. I think we’d all be happier if we ate some more eclairs.” Chris says, pointedly looking down back at the remaining few unfilled pastries. “Or would that be cannibalism, haha.”

Felix exhales sharply out his nose. “Yup.” He pops the p and smiles wide enough so he can squeeze his eyes shut.

He watches Chris work through the final few one by one until Felix is the only one left empty. It’s not fair. He is _just_ as soft and _just_ as fluffy as the eclairs. He's suddenly hateful of these _pastries_ that got to get piped and filled in his place.

But it’s stupid to be jealous of _food._ It’s dumb to be resentful of yet another failed scheme to get Chris to lose the decade long grip on his self control. It’s unfair to be mad that Chris is always responsible and thoughtful and puts everyone else first, especially because it’s part of the reason Felix loves him.

Felix is still a little pissed, but it’s hardly the first time his schemes have failed and he’s been sent back to the drawing board. Maybe next time he’ll engineer a cinnamon roll disaster where a bunch of icing glaze ends up all over his face. Maybe he’ll spill the super expensive vanilla extract on Chris’s hands and have to suck them clean. Maybe he'll just grab Chris and kiss him stupid.

All plots for another day. For now, Felix will settle for making prolonged eye contact with Chris while sucking the custard out of his failure eclairs. Maybe _this_ will work.

**Author's Note:**

> did i write this because i kept thinking about my own tweet? yes.
> 
> please don't come for me for baking inaccuracies, ive never had custard and its been a decade since ive had an eclair. also i don't bake.  
> i added the cinnamon roll thing at the end and now i cant stop thinking about it like "oh no channie, look ive got all this semi-translucent white sticky fluid all over my face in conspicuous areas, help clean me up _with your tongue_ "
> 
> [real time chanlix brainrot](https://twitter.com/chnsredhot)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/Aenphobia)


End file.
